


touching ninety

by onakissgodknows



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Angst and Humor, Chicago Cubs, M/M, Miscommunication, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22168690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: The soul mark on his arm burns mockingly.
Relationships: Willson Contreras/Kyle Hendricks
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19
Collections: MLB Exchange 2019





	touching ninety

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all_ivvant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_ivvant/gifts).

> For all_ivvant! Happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy this!

A lot of things come pretty easy for Kyle. A steady heartbeat even when surrounded by thousands of screaming fans in Cleveland, a pickoff throw when somebody dares to stray too far off first, even (as much as it might shock the media) a smile once he’s off the field and among his friends. All things that come easily for Kyle Hendricks, all things he doesn’t really have to even think about.

This, however, isn’t one of those things.

Oh, it’s easy for Willson because so much is easy for Willson, especially when it comes to expressing his immense capacity for love. It shows, too, in the casual hand on the small of Kyle’s back when he dashes out for a mound visit. In the way Willson gushes about his teammates in his on-the-diamond interviews. In his broad smiles when he catches Kyle looking at the soul mark on his shoulder when they’re in the clubhouse.

Because that’s the trouble of it all, isn’t it, that Willson’s soul mark matches Kyle’s.

Kyle’s never particularly liked the idea that fate has laid out his destiny and Kyle is simply along for the ride. If that’s the case, then none of this, none of what he has, none of his accomplishments are his own. All just part of some grand scheme in which Kyle is the pawn.

Then again, what Kyle and Willson have is undeniable. Willson saw it immediately, opened his heart up to Kyle right away with all the trust and sincerity of a child and then Kyle felt like a heel for not doing the same immediately.

He’s seen how the soul mate thing can backfire. He’s seen Kris and Anthony get into – well, they’re not screaming matches, that would almost be preferable; they’re passive-aggressive arguments that chill the air in the clubhouse and the dugout as they give each other the cold shoulder until something happens and they make up. Kyle knows that wouldn’t happen without the matching marks they both bear, because once you find your soul mate you have this commitment to them, and when commitment is involved, things get complicated.

Kyle never asked for any sort of commitment to Willson Contreras. What’s funny, though, is that Willson isn’t really asking him for any. They’ve kissed – against Kyle’s better judgement, naturally, but in those moments he wanted to kiss Willson as much as Willson wanted to kiss him – and they’ve sex before, the first time in a hotel in San Diego, after a particularly awful stretch of games and a particularly frustrating start of Kyle’s. Willson was gone before Kyle woke up in the morning, though. Kyle was mostly relieved.

It wasn’t that it wasn’t _good_. It’s just that Kyle would rather Willson not get the wrong idea. It’s better to hold him at arm’s length.

Once turns into twice and twice turns into often, and suddenly Willson Contreras is in Kyle’s hotel room more nights than not when they’re on the road, and Kyle should turn him away but doesn’t. Can’t, because Willson’s hands and mouth are gentle and they quiet his noisy mind.

It is terrible, Kyle thinks, to take advantage of somebody like this. The soul mark on his arm, Willson’s name spelled out in Willson’s own handwriting, burns mockingly, reminding Kyle that this is _bad_ and he should be _happy_ he’s found his soul mate, he should love Willson like Willson loves him.

The thing about being smart enough to make it into an Ivy League school, being able to make it through four years of schooling there, is that it makes your brain work so hard to intellectualize everything. Intellectually, Willson should know how Kyle feels about soul mates. Willson should understand that none of this will ever truly mean anything to him, and Kyle’s only here because – why? Why does he keep doing this, coming back to Willson when his heart isn’t in it?

The soul mark on his arm burns mockingly.

“Do I treat you badly?” Kyle asks Willson one night when they’re both in his hotel room. Kyle is aimlessly flipping through channels on the TV, and Willson is in the middle of perusing the room service menu.

He looks up at Kyle and blinks in surprise. “No. I don’t think so?”

Poor bastard doesn’t even _know_ how little Kyle’s heart is in this. But hey, maybe what Willson doesn’t know can’t hurt him? 

Willson falls asleep next to Kyle but he’s gone by the time Kyle wakes up, as per custom. That’s fine with Kyle. Nights are one thing, but mornings, mornings with messy hair and rough voices and half-awake conversations are a level of intimacy that Kyle is pointedly avoiding here.

So why, when he wakes up, does he keep his eyes shut just a minute longer, pretending as long as he can that Willson will still be next to him?

Once, when Kyle was in high school, a coach irritably said to him, “You know, Hendricks, sometimes you’re too intellectual for your own good. Just throw the damn ball.”

Kyle _has_ to be smarter than everybody else because his arm won’t generate the velocity other big league pitchers do. Kyle can’t be a step behind mentally, because his fastball is never going to get ahead of anybody. His curveball and his changeup (the real weapon) have to be _perfect_. Kyle learned early on that his fastball might never be as fast as somebody else’s. Eighty-eight or eighty-nine on most days. He can touch ninety if he’s lucky, but only on his best days. It’s not something he can change about himself, so he’s figured out the best possible way to work with it.

It’s the same with the soul mate bullshit. Kyle doesn’t want one, but he’s got one whether he likes it or not. He likes _Willson_, whether he likes it or not. If he can hold Willson at arm’s length, he doesn’t have to stay away from him completely. He can have the best of both worlds.

And yet there’s a gnawing emptiness inside him.

Being around Willson helps.

Willson comes up to him after a game in Cincinnati as everyone’s clearing out of the clubhouse. It was actually a good game – they won by virtue of a monstrous eighth-inning home run off the bat of Javy Baez, so everyone’s in high spirits thanks to that. To top it off, Kyle pitched really well today. Great American Ballpark is not a pitcher-friendly park, so Kyle tends to have a little extra spring in his step when he’s had a good outing there.

Willson touches his arm lightly. “Tonight?” he asks, like it’s nothing, like it’s not a big deal, even though it’s the biggest possible deal.

“Yeah,” Kyle says, managing to keep his voice level.

Willson looks at him a minute, then gives him a crooked grin. “You’re so tense all the time.”

“Am I?” Kyle says, furiously raking through his memories and realizing maybe he’s not as cool and collected as he thinks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be.”

Willson shakes his head, laughing. “S’all right. I like you anyway. See you later.” And like that, he’s gone, and Kyle’s alone in the locker room.

He’s not alone all that long. Once he gets to the hotel, it’s hardly any time at all before there’s a knock at his door and then Willson is in his room, hands on Kyle’s face, kissing him. “Did you see?” Willson says excitedly. “Your fastball got up to ninety today!”

Kyle can’t help but laugh. “Did it?”

“Just once,” Willson clarifies. “But still. Really cool.” He lets go of Kyle and stands there grinning at him. “You pitched really good today. I’m really proud of you.”

Something swells inside Kyle, some kind of emotion he refuses to identify. He feels himself going a little pink in the face, and looks away. “It’s not like I have to have a ninety-mile fastball to pitch well,” Kyle says uncomfortably.

“Well, no, of course,” Willson says. “It’s just kinda fun, man.”

As Kyle thinks that over, Willson takes his face in his hands again and leans in to kiss him. Abruptly, Kyle backs away. “Hold on a minute.”

“What’s the matter?” Willson asks, a little wounded.

“It’s – “ Jesus, that damn soul mark. Kyle rolls up his sleeve to bare the place that holds Willson’s name. “This stupid thing. This stupid fucking thing, man, I don’t – “

Willson stares at him, mouth a little open, totally bemused. “I don’t get you.”

“I want you,” Kyle says helplessly. “But I don’t want to want you just because – “ He gestures at the soul mark again. “Because I have to.”

Willson looks a little surprised, then his lips quirk upward into a slight smile. “You ever think maybe it’s not that you want me because of that stupid thing, but you have that stupid fucking thing because you want me?”

This had not occurred to Kyle. “No,” he says stupidly.

Willson shrugs. “Well, I dunno if that’s how it works or not. But that’s what I figured. ‘Cause I think I’d want you whether I had the soul mark or not. That’s all.”

There’s that funny feeling in the pit of Kyle’s stomach again, that feeling he’s trying to ignore. “I didn’t know.”

Willson laughs. “You overthought it. It’s okay. You do that kinda thing a lot.”

_Just throw the damn ball_.

“But,” Kyle says as Willson, smiling, takes his hands, “you’re always gone in the mornings.”

Willson looks even more surprised. “That’s ‘cause I go work out. You want me to wake you up before I leave?”

At that Kyle starts laughing, and finds he can’t stop. He’s been so obtuse, almost deliberately so. “Sure,” Kyle says, still laughing as he tugs Willson closer. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

Willson, still seeming a little bewildered but amused by what just happened, reaches up to cup Kyle’s face. “For the record,” he says, “I don’t care about any dumb soul mark. It’s just a tattoo.” One neither of them asked for, on top of that. Willson smiles at him. “I want to be with you ‘cause I love you, that’s all there is.”

Kyle leans his forehead against Willson’s and closes his eyes, suddenly feeling an immense sense of relief. Maybe that is all there is. “I love you too,” he says, and he’s surprised himself by even saying it. The words seemed to leap unbidden from his mouth, but that doesn’t make them untrue. It’s that deep feeling in the pit of his stomach that’s driving Kyle now.

Willson kisses him and pats his face gently. “You calmed down now? You okay?”

Kyle sighs, wrapping his arms around him and letting himself feel comforted just by Willson’s warm presence. “Yeah. I think I’m good now.”


End file.
